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You’re listening to Smooth FM, taking you from the darkest hours to the start of a brand new day.
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One could count fifty moons hanging in the sky, in rows and columns of smaller skies.
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146854
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In December of 2003, Daniel Arredondo succumbed to his years long battle with colon cancer. If the name is unfamiliar, you're not alone. He did not answer to the name Daniel Arredondo. For most of his life, from seventeen years old to the end, in fact, he went by the name…
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We can’t just bomb Berlin or Dresden,/
Nagasaki or Hanoi, to make things safe
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Above our bellies we are beautiful women with luscious breasts. Where there is skin, believe me, it is flawless, irresistible. Most of us have long hair, but there are some among us who keep their heads close cropped for aerodynamic…
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146796
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They make you work
For your pizza in Italy
You have to slice it yourself
While wearing a gas mask
To ward off the cigarette smoke
From every neighboring table
While chasing away the
Mosquitos and the pigeons
The flies and the gypsy r
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If I remember him at all it’s because I decided not to flunk him so he could graduate. I had this theory that teachers should be bound by the same oath as doctors, First, do no harm.
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[This story definitely WON'T be appearing in this month's "Alfred Hitchock's Mystery Magazine"!]
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Amanda Palmer's explaining the eyebrow thing. An altercation with someone at Roadrunner, or maybe old boyfriend shit to burn— She's animated but he's losing signal, filling in the blanks himself. Whatever, it won't light at first, and then WHUMP and she…
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He then spent his walk home to his single apartment spitting up various textures of red, combinations of cherry and blood mostly.
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A dirtied light falls through/
the grimed windowpanes.
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She put the Necco wafer on Sally's tongue."You can't be the priest, Emma" Sally said nearly choking on the hard, chalky disk."Then why you on yaw knees stupid?""You said to be prayin' and like in church, but you can't be doin' priest stuff. That's for…
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I asked him his name and here’s the kicker, Leiby. It means lion.
You know what? I said mine is Levi, how do you do.
That means to accompany—like in the root of the word, it’s got that meaning.
As in levayah, funeral in Hebrew. Does that only
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In that time when the trunk was getting cleared out and when it became only the empty shell of what had once been so important, many things hit the match. She burned an old black negligee, a picture competing with the likes of a Vargas girl and other thin
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146751
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you'd do him more of a favor to kill him, than place upon him the burden of such an abrupt change in travel plans.
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beautiful, but you don't own beauty. You may be sexy, but you don't own desire. You may be smart, but you don't own wisdom. You may be good and kind, but you don't own love. You may like trees, but you don't own the forest. You may like to…
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Able to search through centuries, I click, scribble, skim,resurrect wet stone walls, the smell of burning peat.Bob's your uncle; Peggy's your aunt.Name your family, child. My brother said helloto Uncle Shirley and Aunt Greg. I was more…
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The laptop has ruined the sanctity of the library. And so I get up and go see Queen Jane.
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The courts had scheduled the date long ago but the time, an hour always left to the warden, had yet to be decided.
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He doesn't call, not even on her birthday. She doesn't mention it or complain. She knows she doesn't have it as bad as some, even in this privileged Triangle of North Carolina. She is white and pretty and belongs to what's left of the middle…
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“Guys, who would you rather live with.... Mom... or Dad.”
His younger siblings giggled in shock, not that they hadn’t thought about it... apparently.
"You know I'm right here..." I joked, waving at them.
“I’d rather live with mom.” the question-a
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my love for you/ is like the falling snow
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A dead deer on the side of the road and the older boys not listening to her as they stab its eye with a stick.
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Only fragments of their lives survive, like broken Sapphos. I have known them, alleged killer of themselves for the love of a man., but we know this is an invention. The leader of a whole guild of girls, who wrote 7 books of poems. What happened to them
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This was not the bar that the artist usually frequented.
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I'm hearing a noise. I can't see it. It's hiding and seems to be coming from the other side of the creek. With boots on I slowly wade across. The water makes its light lapping sounds. Reaching the bank, I search for the noise. It must have a face, suntanned and warm, that I…
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She stepped inlike ice alonecould save hershe dived,slicing the wavewith her body her fresh pony tailsubmergedlike a silk scarfthen swam moving thewater awaylike whirlpoolscould hold her buoyantly save her from the headachewhispering wordsThey had been there all…
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[CAUTION: READING THIS STORY COULD CAUSE IRREPARABLE "CULTURE SHOCK" AND IS NOT ADVISED FOR OLD FOLKS, PREGNANT WOMEN, OR THOSE WITH "MONSTROUS, FRAGILE EGOS"!]
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